|Sitting in front of this screen, typing few words gives the author,
maybe the reader too, a feeling to enter in a sort of “dream-machine”.
The reality is left behind, and the reality in these winter days with
minus 13 degrees Celsius, with slippery snow on the streets, this
reality is felt near to cruelty. But the ones, who make it home back in
the warm room, that are the happy ones, ready to slip into dreams of
words, emotions, fantasies.
The struggle on the high ways in a high speed above 100 Kilometres per hour is hard. Even every driver tries the best to gain distance in the cold, wet dark December, there is always someone behind quicker. Two tons heavy SUVs pass by. Some Highway fighters have always to win, someone gets lost in the abyss by the side of the street.
It is like the highest tower buildings in the world, nowadays in Dubai with 818 Meters, someone has to win the competition. Meanwhile the economies go bankrupt, doesn’t matter, the fight for the Highest Skyscraper counts enough for honour.
The news report something positive about the climate deal in Copenhagen, but most this conference brought up: hot air to pollute the atmosphere more and more. With these jobs in conferences and on desktops dreamers try to substitute real life with dreams. Most dreams turn into nightmares. Who cares? Sarcastic jokes entertain us dreaming dancers, before again the Titanic perishes. The Titanic represents meanwhile our societies. Everybody wants to have the last, ultimate fun, before the party is over.
||My little woman at the Christmas Market fights for every customer. She fights for every little sale, starting with her self made candles from half an Euro, up to her now sold most expensive sledge for more than 150 Euros. But such costly sale only happens once in a while. My little Market Mimamai stands up very early before 6.00 a.m., she has to bring her sold little presents from her garage to the market place. There she opens her hut at 9.00 a.m. Her friendly student helper Julia gives her a break from 12.00 to 1.00 p.m. And afterwards Mimamai stands at her hut and sells till 8.00 p.m. She goes home, eats, watches T.V. a little while and goes to bed. That’s her reality.||
|In her life is no time left to dive deeper into the dreams of our
newspapers or of our e-chat entertainment. Nevertheless my Mimamai is
happy about my five visits to her market to help. That are more than
2500 Kilometres. For my body this week end with more than minus 10
degrees Celsius is nearly intolerable. On Friday my stomach felt sick
once again. It needed hours under many warm blankets to recover from
this cold stress outside.
Now Sunday with great luck at home again my fingers fantasize about my little life adventures in the cold December. Again my woman has earned her money together with my very limited help. On Tuesday she starts to deconstruct her market hut. First the sledges and the crib has to be brought into her garage. Then her market hut needs to be deconstructed in 14 great pieces of the wall and the floor. All these parts have to be stored first in her old trailer, and the again in the garage. We will celebrate Christmas all alone: she in Bamberg, my time will be here to recover in Munich from these four hardest weeks of the year.
But nevertheless last winter, when her father died this year on 6th January and my daughter on 23th January, last year weeks were even more exhausting. Now we hope both together for the best end of this Christmas Market 2009, the last three hard days in this frosty December.